


To Have and To Hold

by museicalitea



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Future Fic, Light Angst, M/M, Marriage, Narita is the bestest boyfriend ever, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 04:40:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8357590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/museicalitea/pseuds/museicalitea
Summary: On the biggest day of Kinoshita and Narita's lives, the nerves manifest quite differently between them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> As ever, this is dedicated to the lovely Anfu, who prompted me close to a year ago with "KinoNari + 3", which in this case means "KinoNari + the way you said I love you: a scream". There is one more in this KinoNari series to come, and I think it takes place on a pirate ship. I was inspired to finish this (finally, after many, many months of it lingering in a google doc) by Chapter 227, and Kinoshita's brief starring role (HE GOT TO PLAY MY BOY YESSSSSSSSSSSS!!!)
> 
> (And truth be told this turned out a bit less fluffy than I thought it would, but it's _me_ writing it so by this point I'm not even surprised anymore.)

“This is a terrible idea,” said Narita for the second time. “We are both going to  _ die _ .”

Kinoshita couldn't quite keep from rolling his eyes. The keys in his hand and the licence in his pocket and no accident-related hospital bills to speak of were perfectly sound proof that they were most certainly not going to die like this. But then, Narita was neurotic about some things.

“I've had my full licence for two years,” he said, leaning his weight back against the motorbike’s seat. “And I've taken passengers before.”

Narita scowled and folded his arms tight across his chest. “Ryuu doesn't count.”

“Chikara.”

“I doubt his sanity every time he sends us a new film concept.”

“Chikara’s boyfriend.”

“Dating Chikara, self-explanatory.”

“Suga-san.”

“Wha—when?”

“Sakunami-kun.”

“...Um.”

“Yacchan. The list goes on, would you like it?”

Narita clenched his jaw. Some of the resolve had left his eyes. “This is a terrible idea,” he said again, much quieter.

“And it will get you there faster than the bus.” With a sigh, Kinoshita pushed himself back into his feet, placed his helmet on the seat, and crossed over to Narita. “I'm hardly going to let you die willingly, you know. That would sort of defeat the point. And,” he added, stepping just close enough that they could nearly touch, “we can’t be late and I’m not sure how else you’re planning to get there.”

Narita scowled at him, but picked up his helmet from the garage floor and clasped it to his chest. It was an improvement from ten minutes ago, and Kinoshita grinned.

This day was going to be so fun.

★ ☆ ★

There were few things that thrilled Kinoshita so much as speeding through town on his motorbike. With the engine thrumming fierce beneath his legs, and coursing through his body, he felt powerful. Invincible. Like he could take on the world.

And best of all, on this trip he had company.

“I HATE YOOUUUUUUU—”

The rest of Narita’s wail was lost in the roar and rev of the engine as Kinoshita cut as close as he dared round the corner. He squeezed his arms tighter still around Kinoshita’s middle, and Kinoshita laughed out loud.

This was amazing.

When Kinoshita finally pulled to a halt and killed the engine, Narita’s hands didn’t let up from their death grip on his jacket. He thought he heard a moan that sounded like “Is it over now?” and patted Narita’s white-knuckled left hand in assurance.

“Yes, yes it is.”

After a minute had passed and Narita had not let go, he added, “We do need to get off this bike sometime soon so we can, you know, go inside and get married.”

“You suck.” This sounded much less just-had-the-fright-of-my-life Narita and much more clucky-fussy Narita, and the small bit of Kinoshita that was truly afraid that Narita might have left him over this (because Narita really hated the motorbike and was shit scared of something happening to Kinoshita because of it) was soothed. Narita didn’t sound clucky-fussy when he was really annoyed with Kinoshita.

Kinoshita placed his hands over Narita’s and pushed them a bit, and to his relief Narita let go at last. While Narita clambered off the bike and walked up towards the parking meter and back while struggling with his helmet, Kinoshita took a moment to sag down and massage his stomach. Terror and inexperience were powerful forces to be reckoned with in more ways than one.

Still, he probably wouldn’t need any organs replaced. Probably.

Narita was still walking up and down past the parking meter on shaky legs like he was recovering from a boat trip or a bad bout of flu, so Kinoshita took his time with fixing his hair in his helmet’s visor. Normally he didn’t bother much about it, 

Now that he was here—

Kinoshita had thought for a long, long time that this would never happen. And then, once he knew it could, he had fallen into an easy acceptance that it was one of those things that just sort of happened to other people. It was too big, too grown-up. Something for people taller and older and wiser than he.

Oddly enough, he hadn’t included Narita in this thought process, which was odd because Narita was all three of those things and then some. Sweet. Quickwitted. Braver than Kinoshita, he was sure.

So now that it was happening—he checked his phone: twenty-four minutes to go—his insides had started to curl up and inch their way up his throat.

_ It’s just signing a piece of paper. And saying some things that someone else wrote. It isn’t going to change anything. It isn’t. _

But it was, wasn’t it? Because  _ married _ —married was different to  _ boyfriend _ or  _ partner _ or  _ Kazu _ and Kinoshita didn't think he was ready.

Some of that strange, icky stagefright he remembered from volleyball had started to creep back in. He wondered, staring into his helmet at his pinched, pale reflection, whether it might be better—

“Hisashi?”

It was Narita, less green and decidedly solid in his stance again. He'd taken off the borrowed motorbike jacket and standing there in midnight blue shirt and dove grey waistcoat, Kinoshita's stomach dropped. Narita looked perfect.

He also looked like he were about to get married. Because he was.

And all Kinoshita's meager courage screwed up into a tight ball and vanished in an instant.

“I thought we were going in.”

“We are! We… we are.”

Narita’s forehead creased. “You haven’t gotten off your bike yet.”

Kinoshita forced a laugh and tried to smile the tension off his face. “What's a wedding without a dramatic entrance?”

Narita raised his eyebrows skeptically. “What, crashing through the wall of the registrar's office  _ two floors up _ ?”

“...Yeah, that.”

“Lovey,” Narita said, looping his helmet and jacket over the motorcycle’s handles and giving Kinoshita his best Unconvinced Doctor stare. “What's going on?”

Kinoshita looked down at his bike. “Nothing.”

“That sounds like something.”

“I'm fine,” he said—and was shocked at how raspy his voice was. Since when had his throat gotten that clogged up?

“Hisashi?” Warm, steady fingers started threading through his hair, and Kinoshita leaned towards Narita automatically. His stomach was rampant with shaky butterflies now, and wouldn’t stop churning. It made his chest and throat feel tingly and his hands too hot, and even though he tried to breathe himself out of it, he could feel it wasn’t working.

And Narita must have sensed that too, because his hands slowed, and then lifted out of Kinoshita’s hair and landed on his shoulders.

“Here,” he said firmly. “Off the bike, let’s sit down.”

Kinoshita was feeling too shaky to even point out that he was already sitting, thank you very much. He let Narita hold his arm firm in support as he got off, and take his helmet, and let Narita lead him to wherever he wanted to go.

They ended up on the steps of an office building right in front of Kinoshita’s park, sitting side by side. The street was very quiet; there was no wind, just soft grey skies and a couple of cars that went past as Kinoshita hunched over his knees and tried to will the nerves to stop swimming about in his gut. Beside him, Narita had stretched out one long leg down the steps, but had the other pulled up so their ankles brushed. He didn’t talk, but he was breathing very visibly, and Kinoshita could see he was trying to help him calm down.

It was sort of working, but not really.

“I’m not getting cold feet about this,” Kinoshita said, doing his best to keep his voice level. “It’s not that.”

Narita nodded and didn’t say anything. But he reached his hand over to thread their fingers together and started rubbing his thumb over the base of Kinoshita’s. Somehow, having that to focus on made it a bit easier to talk.

“This is just… big. And it feels too soon.”

Narita hummed, and fixed Kinoshita with a look somewhere inbetween a gentle frown and soft concern. “You’re nervous.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Not too much.”

“I don't think I'm ready.” It sounded silly, saying it out loud. But he couldn’t help but say it. It was the truth. “I'm… I'm scared.”

“Look, if it helps, remember that you went on court against one of the toughest teams in the country at Nationals and won us the game in three serves, and if you could do that, you can do anything.”

Kinoshita couldn’t help but laugh—a proper laugh this time—and Narita bumped their shoulders together. His eyes were fond, and his hands and voice warm.

“That was years and years ago.”

“So what? Took guts then, and this takes guts now. I know you're nervous. But this is just you and me and a registrar in an office for twenty minutes, and then we’re celebrating with all our friends and our families. You’ve got more than enough guts for that.”

“Do I?”

“Well,” said Narita, disentangling their fingers, looping his arm around Kinoshita’s shoulders and squeezing tight, “I know this much. I don’t think you would have had the guts to propose if you weren’t a hundred percent sure you loved me. And I sure as hell wouldn’t have gone on that motorbike if I didn’t love you three hundred and twenty percent back.”

“You were screaming in terror because you loved me?” Kinoshita put a hand to his heart, and pouted proudly. “I'm so touched.”

“Wow. So romantic.”

“Aye. I love you, remember?”

“Yeah,” Narita said softly. Seriously. “You do.”

He pushed himself off the pavement and stood in front of Kinoshita with both hands outstretched and a gentle smile on his face. And, smiling back, Kinoshita put his hands in Narita’s and let him tug him to his feet, and then closer still.

“C’mon, Hisashi.”

And in the breath between a brief, stolen kiss—

“Let’s go and get married.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/museicalitea) | [Tumblr](http://museicaliteacup.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Comments are always much appreciated if you enjoyed the fic!


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